


Backseat Driver

by Ukthxbye



Series: Don't Complicate It [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awesome Irene Adler, Banter, Biting, Car Sex, Dom Irene Adler, Drinking, Drunk Sex, Drunken Kissing, Explicit Language, F/M, Greg is Sweet, Hair-pulling, Handcuffs, I Will Go Down With This Ship, If you are not into the porn just read until they get in car, It's For a Case, Kissing, Late Night Conversations, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Neck Kissing, One Shot, Oral Sex, Police, Pool & Billiards, Porn With Plot, Protective Greg, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Tension, Smut, Sub Greg Lestrade, Vaginal Sex, its all banter until then, look ok they aren't enemies but they are on opposite sides of the law and that is a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 14:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18054437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ukthxbye/pseuds/Ukthxbye
Summary: Its a friday night, and an easy kind of stakeout turns out to be more fun than Di Greg Lestrade could imagine. A ghost from the past appears to him in the flesh. Irene Adler finds herself chasing a familar kind of high when she and the DI make an unexpected connection.





	Backseat Driver

"Budweiser." A slow Friday Night stakeout found Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade sitting at a trendy bar off Clerkenwell Road. American in style minus the accents. But the beer was cheap, and it looked the part, he mused.  The barkeep set a cold sweating bottle down on a worn coaster. Lestrade carried it to a back table, eyeing the door to his right checking his mobile.

 

 **Headed in your direction** **still** **. 30 minutes. I'll advise if he changes.**

 

Sally tailing, Greg waited to witness the meetup. But the other suspect still missing, so he relaxed into his seat and scanned the room.

 

His eyes landed on a woman diagonally from him. _Mmm, blonde though it came from a bottle, on the thinner side but… oh my God._

 

She wasn't dead. He'd known it, even if no one told him directly. She remained quiet enough the ordinary world believed the lie. But he'd heard musing and rumblings in the underworld.

 

The casual room matched her style. White, albeit fancy, t-shirt, loose around the top, hanging off one shoulder and a black leather skirt and heels. No doubt expensive even if it's simple, Lestrade speculated as he sipped his beer.

 

She lifted her head,  wrapping a stray honey blonde lock behind her ear.  He stared too long though as her brilliant blue eyes locked on him.

 

 _Too late now._ They both thought it.

 

Her hair worn up pretty much the same as photos he'd seen but the t-shirt and skirt are a far cry from what he'd expect her to wear. Well, perhaps the heels might give her away, red soled brand distinct.

 

Not that she didn't still dress for clients, but nothing sat on her calendar for tonight. Her flat dull,  and this bar was safe. She knew the owner, and they kept a mutual respect for each other's business They shared a similar enemy they learned and since then, he made sure she didn't worry about spending evenings quiet here. But this copper saw her, nonetheless. _Detective Inspector_ _Greg_ _Lestrade, ah yes,_ she recalled it now.

 

Greg raised his beer and nodded to her. She mirrored him in acknowledgement and looked back down at her mobile. A feeling of curious panic raced up her spine. Why was he here? Worries for the staff, her protectors and for her. She risked another glance and found his eyes still on her. Steady and dark as he tipped his bottle up.

 

 _What the hell you got time._ He took a big swig and strolled toward her table. _It has a better view of the room anyway, probably on purpose,_ he thought.

 

He slid in next to her on the booth area.

 

"Hello Ms Adler." _One more_ _swig_ _. Should have bought another,_ he thought.

 

She stared at her mobile, her voice quiet but tense. "Am I wanted for something?"

 

He chuckled, "I don't know, you got a confession to make?"

 

"Not my specialty. Good at getting them from others though."

 

 _Oh we are going there right away. I like it but take care,_ he mused.

 

"Hmm... how many years has it been?" she drawled and leaned back into the seat, heavy lidded in her stare.

 

"Enough," he smirked.

 

"And yet you're still here," she sighed heavily.

 

Her hand smoothed her skirt down her leg, instinctual to distract until she could pluck out why the DI closest to Sherlock Holmes sat beside her.

 

It worked. As his eyes strayed, watching her hand slid across her thigh, and a slow smile crept across her red lips. But he brought his gaze up just as quick as it fell and back to hers.

 

"Stakeout... that pretty face gave you away, " he lifted his bottle to his mouth though only a drop remained. But his eyes fixed on her. "But you're not the suspect." With a cracked smile, he set the bottle down slow and he checked his mobile. _Nothing from Sally, all the time in the world_

 

She breathed out, annoyance made obvious, and he drew back as she locked eyes with him, and sneered "Then why the hell are you near me?"

 

He shrugged. "I got…," he pulled the sleeve of his jumper back, checking his watch, "20 minutes or so before the suspect gets here. Thought, hey pretty girl across the bar and then well, you turned out to be much more interesting than just any bird."

 

She squinted at his nonchalance.

 

"Do you need anything else?" a waiter appeared to their left suddenly and their eyes shot his direction. Though not really a waiter; he stood at her side as a different service. She chose the right bar to make a safe spot.

 

"No, thank you," she smiled from the corner of her mouth, signalling she needed no extra assistance.

 

"Hey, another bottle? Greg gestures at his empty Bud. Turning to Irene, " Sure you don't want anything? My treat." His lips curled into a slight grin, as he bit them.

 

 _Why are you letting him near you? Charm never used to suck you in,_ she chided herself.

 

She sighed, giving a “you know how it is” look to the other man.

 

"Scotch on the rocks, then.”

 

"I like it."

 

"Do you have to sit here to watch the door ?" She let irritation slip in her tone. But she couldn't deny she wasn’t as bored anymore.

 

He leaned on the table, his eyes scanning her face. "Well the door is in line, but the other view is much more pleasant."

 

One more innocent grin for good measure and she couldn’t help but snicker.

 

"You’re a sloppy flirt. Much too obvious.”

 

"Baby doll, by the time you get to my age why bother with anything else."

 

She guessed he is late 40 to early 50's though in fabulous shape for it. That silver mix on top, she could see the appeal paired with those boyish grins.  The contrast something to play with and that short cut to his hair but just enough to pull to begging ache, she pondered. But she surprised herself that she even thought that. _Perhaps this dry spell had gone on too long,_ she mused and took a quick sip of her drink the waiter set down.  

 

The blonde hair grew on him. It softened her face, made all her angles appear less like knives ready to cut him to pieces. Not that she didn't intimidate him, but such a feeling never stopped him before. Well, once when he had a little crush on Molly but his ex the fault then. Broke him long enough, he mused. But he healed well, like a cracked bone, stronger where it once crumbled.

 

"So…" but his words trailed as the first suspect appeared. She watched his eyes to a man who entered the bar. Unfamiliar to her either as an associate or enemy, the nervous panic in her eased off and she looked back down at her mobile while nursing her scotch.

 

His eyes steady on the suspect, he murmured "Don't worry baby doll,  if anything happens, I can—"

 

She cut him off. "Handle yourself I am sure. They train you all from what I know."

 

"I meant I can—"

 

"Don't," she laughed, typing on her phone. "Just don't, Detective Inspector.

 

He frowned at her, scrolling on her mobile unphased. He turned his eyes just in time to see it the moment planned. On his feet, he confronted the suspect who resigned to his fate without violence. The rest of the team followed. His eyes wandered back to Irene as he addressed them. When he finished and dismissed them, Sally Donovan glanced where his face pointed, even now regarding her slight smile as she scrolled on her phone.  

 

"Did we interrupt something?" Sally snapped.

 

"Ah no...maybe? Hey... you think you could handle this, you know, just for tonight?" he stammered.

 

Sally's jaw dropped and her lips curled into a sly grin. "Oi, you are not..no, you’re tryin' to pull Ir-"

 

"Shh, not here." He put his hand up, gulping and looking around, nodding as another officer walked by.

 

“You’re trying to pull _the woman_? Do I get to tell Sherlock? Please," She begged holding back a giggle.

 

He shrugged, "Look...hey, I'm just looking for nice conversation. She's got that. I—"

 

Sally stopped him with a wide smile, "I got you, mate. But if this ever can get out, I get to tell Sherlock. That's my price."

 

He pursed his lip but gave a quick nod as he put his hands on his hips, looking at his feet.

 

"Best of luck" She left with a turn and a smirk. "Alright back to the station, everyone!"

 

Irene sipped her scotch slowly, watching it play out in front of her. Sally Donovan knew her as well. She read her lips. _Shit, I am not as good at this disguise thing as I thought._

 

Greg stopped at the bar, and got a whiskey for himself and headed back to the table.

 

"Just me and you now."

 

She rolled her eyes again, but her lips crooked up and he bit his lip, knowing the walls were wearing down. Well, at least the ones that mattered and he relished the tiny victory she allowed. His work cut out for him and he's well above his pay grade, she mused, but the tedium that settled over her life made the thought enticing to let him try.

 

Conversation began to flow, and he told her the particulars of the case. He knew nothing about the activities of her protectors here at the bar that she could suss out without suspicion. She loved it when his jaw dropped as she worked out a bit of the case before he could tell her. His sly grin returned after, enduring in a way that shocked her.  A large group sat at the table next to them and he scooted closer to her leaning back against the booth with his arm up on the back. One more drink ordered. Same scotch on the rocks to be sipped slow. A funny story he told well. She knew Sherlock was in it but he didn't say his name. She appreciated it whether it was intentional or not and paid the favour back with a real laugh and brief hand on his chest.

 

 _Secrets personified, that's Irene,_ and something tugged in him to draw them all out. He knew that's the training speaking. He pushed it away, and enjoyed being physically closer to her. Just talking to someone, having some laughs and flirting without pretense. He recognised she should only humour him, but every new clue revealed to him their attention mutually desired.

 

The hour increased the crowd exponentially.The sheer volume increase drew them near together physically, legs pressed to each other and his arm around her tight as his mouth stayed close to ear. But talking this close lost its intimate effect as it turned to a yell when the music started.

 

"Hey baby doll, wanna go downstairs?" he said his breath heavy in a sigh right behind her ear as his fingers played with the edge of her skirt. The leather soft but her skin softer, he mused.

She leaned back her shoulder pushing into his, looking into his eyes and snickered "Awfully bold request."

 

"No... ah" he laughed out, dropping his hand to her knee, rubbing small circles with his thumb. "You know what I meant. Come on, lets play pool. You  wanna get some crowd control ?" He glanced around the room and then back to her with a crooked smile, "You got friends around, obviously. Maybe your goons can keep the crowd up here."

 

 _Ok he isn't as clueless as I assumed. He didn't sleep his way to the top that's for sure. Let's see where this goes,_ she thought.

 

His darkened glance at her over his glass as he grabbed it and her hand revealed her how the evening could end. But she wasn't in a hurry and neither was he.

 

She text the manager and he affirmed he would keep numbers low downstairs. She dropped her phone in her Prada purse as she stood without wobble on her heels.

 

Greg whistled his eyes slanting as they started at the bottom and traveled to the top. _Typical._ She rolled her eyes , but that boyish grin again, it warmed her, settling somewhere in her belly. _At least his flattery seems genuine but why is that a turn on,_ she pondered

 

Lacing his fingers with hers, he pulled her to the stairs, walking backwards to continue his admiration,  "Baby doll…"

 

"Why do you call me that?" she asked it slow with honesty as he led her down the steps carefully, switching to give her him arm as he shifted beside her. She perceived the muscles twitch at her touch under the thin cashmere. He'd called her nothing else that after the first greetings. It felt cheeky. But if it was trick it was an odd one.  

 

"Because no one ever has?" he offered with an upturned corner of his lips in her direction.

 

A throaty laugh left her and she simpered, "Oh, I'd hate to disappoint you but—"

 

He stopped her with a stare as they stepped into the basement room. "Well then... they didn't say it like I do."

 

And he was right. Amiable, with a hint of want but no demand in its tone. Something she didn't know much from men. Women she'd loved, sure  but that is a different kind of sweetness. But she still doesn't trust it. He is a cop, after all. But the intrigue crept into her forethought and she craved to lean into it.

 

"I've been called better." She dropped his arm as she strolled ahead to the back wall so he could leer all he wanted.  Why did she allow it? Why did she like it? She wanted to blame the scotch. And that damn dry spell she'd been through.

 

"And worse I'm sure, but baby doll,  just enjoy." He set his glass down on the edge of a red felted pool table. He studied the room, a large dark skull mural contrasted with blood red leather couch like seating covering ceiling to floor. Trendy and tacky but with its own kind of romance. Low light and they were alone except for the bar keep.

 

His eyes fell back to his companion, adjusting to the dim light as she sat , leaning back with her arms up on the sofa back, and crossed her legs, rubbing them together as she did. His mouth dry at the sight, and everything it suggested.

 

"Enjoy what?" she purred, eye slanting.

 

He closed the distance to her, bumping his legs to hers.  He pushed a honeyed lock behind her ear with a finger, his eyes cast down to her lips. He leaned forward, one hand on her knee and the other hand landing on her arm as he leaned into it with his weight. He licked his lips and whispered by her ear. "It's Friday night. We got booze, a place to stay and good conversation. I'm not bored, well..." he chuckled softly, " you probably are but maybe I can change that before the night is over."

 

She returned his suggestive smile, as he stood back up and began racking the balls on the table in front of them. She nodded at the bartender, one she knew well and she nodded back and began her usual.

 

She pondered him as he worked on the table with no hurry. His voice in her ear all night differed in ways she needed to study. No drawl, no extra effect to try and seduce. The words spoken direct, a tinge of nerves but he didn't let that stop him. She sensed his awareness of the risks with every push but she rewarded him each time before regret could settle in. He wasn't looking for love; neither was she. But it all escalated forward and she directed the game just as much as him. She perused his form move around the table. _Deliberate. That was the word for him._

 

"What you thinking about?" he asked as he picked out a cue.

 

"I like your arse in those trousers."

 

He didn't look at her but his cheeks coloured and he ran his tongue across his teeth

 

"I like that skirt," he said as he grabbed a cue stick, not looking at her.

 

"Most men do."

 

"Women too?" he smirked.

 

"Absolutely,"  she drawled. "Are you asking something more specific underneath those compliments?"

 

"I know who some of you clients were…" His eyes on the cue as he rubbed caulk on the tip, crouching slightly to make sure he covered it.

 

"I have... friends...at Scotland Yard," she smiled, raising her eyebrow.

 

"I'm sure you do," he chuckled.

 

"I wonder if you can be shocked, Greg... is it?"

 

She knew his name but she decided to change the intimacy for purpose. He decided to stay steady with his.

 

He leaned on the cue his face bemused. "Baby doll, I have seen it all at every angle. People don't always make sense but needs, well,  whether they really are a need is debatable... but they drive everything I've found."

 

"Everyone has needs...But then there are desires."

 

"So which one do you have tonight?" His eyes dark and unrelenting.

 

She met them with hers hooded, "Let's play and we'll see. Enough shop talk now."

 

He licked his lips as he leaned back over the table "Anything you say, baby doll."

 

The cue ball hit with a crack like lightning in the mostly empty room.

 

"So you do know how to play?" He asked as he slid by her, running a light hand on her waist as he passed close by to his next shot.

 

She did. But playing like she didn't might be more fun, she thought.

 

"I know snooker but I haven't really played this style" It wasn't true but she knew the game they were playing. Cliche but why not? The booze burned down any concerns as she took a large gulp from her glass the bartender handed her and set it down on the table edge.

 

Greg grinned, knowing well what showing her how to play would entail. He lined up his next shot, but his eyes strayed to her running her fingers along the table edge as she moved into his view. Deep red painted nails scratched along the worn wood, like blood shiny and slick. He slipped and the ball missed the pocket.

 

He handed the cue to her and she took it slowly.

 

"So what am I aiming for?"

 

He bit the tip of his tongue between his teeth holding her stare, but she broke it, turning to the table."

 

"I hit in stripes so you are going for a solid except the 8." His voice went hoarse with a cough as he tried to sip his drink.

 

An easy shot on the 2 ball apparent and she shifted down to take it. Then she remembers she _needs_ his help.

 

She looked behind her to confirm his staring at her arse.

 

"You want to help or you want to stare?"

 

"Helping of course, baby doll. Just looking over the shot.”

 

"Bullshit," she growled and he laughed. She leaned and he bent over her, tall but not awkwardly so. Placing a hand near her’s on the cue on the front, he placed his hand on her lower back.

 

"Just aim for center it should go right in."

 

She hit it square and the ball sunk with a thud. She pushed her backside back into his hips and his hand grabbed her hip as she straightened back against him. She slid to the side across him, and she shot her eyes down when his fingers dug in her side before letting her go. Creeping her eyes traveled up and to her chin pointed up, perfect pose for a kiss and his eyes gazed at her lips with heavy lids.

 

"That is odd angle but I like the shot on the 5."

  
She strolled around the table, each foot in front of the other deliberate in pace as her fingers caressed the felt edge. He followed her like a puppy, and when she jumped up to sit on the table for the shot, she found herself in his arms suddenly.

 

"God damn, Ire..." he began to speak her name but the word choked in his throat being so close and he swallowed hard. She watched his throat bob and imagined her teeth leaving marks.

 

"Can I take my turn or do you want bend the rules?" she purred, slipping her hands around to his back across his hip, curling a finger under the hem of his jumper. His jaw fell as he sucked in a hard breath and she opened her legs as much as the skirt allowed. He closed the distance, his hands bracing on the table as his lip seized hers.

 

No hesitation as their fervor called the shots, revealing something reckless in their infatuation.

 

"You are a bit drunk," she sighed, licking the taste of whisky off her lips as his trailed down her neck.

 

He grinned into her collar bone. "So are you."

 

"So what do we do with this?"

 

"I have my hopes."

 

"And I have some needs."

 

"What's that, baby doll?" he hummed into her ear.

 

She grabbed his chin between her thumb and finger, nail edges in and made him look her in the eyes. "To fuck you until you beg."

 

Transfixed by those brilliant blues, he mumbled, "I think we can do that. My car is close." He swallowed hard.

 

"Is it your issued one?" Her eyes wide and bright soaking all in his sudden nerves.

 

"Yeah, but it's fine. Can’t run the lights for you, sorry." That boyish grin returned to her unexpected delight.

 

She sighed, dropping her hand to his belt. "I'll make due. Some fantasy fulfilled is better than none."

 

He snickered soft as she leaned back. "Baby doll, you've done thing in our cars before. I'm not naive."

 

"Oh Detective Inspector, not every fantasy is a place. I've said it before, I love a detective." Her eyebrow raised with a smile. 

 

He bit his bottom lip, pausing but a second to drink her in. She clung to his neck as he pivoted lifting her by her arse to dropped her onto the sofa against the wall. His grin gone as he covered every inch of her he could manage. His thumb played with the skirt edge, rubbing up while digging his thumb into her inner thigh. His lips rough, stubble scratching her chin raw and she relished the tiny bit of pain.

 

“Let’s take this somewhere more private, baby doll,” he murmured in her ear, running his hand up her shirt, fingers playing along her ribs.

 

“You’re place it is then,” she whispered biting his lip hard pulling it out before she released.

 

Without another word, she pushed him off and stood, reaching into her purse. She tossed small pile of cash on the bar. "Keep the change" She didn't take her eyes off Greg as he walked in front of her.  She needed this. Just someone close. To fuck and get fucked.

 

His tongue licked the corner of his mouth as he lingered one more gaze at Irene and then he saluted the bar keep as they left.

 

His car there in the lot next door blessedly dark with no lamps near. He clicked the locks open. He opened the door and she slide in the back seat with confidence. One more visual check around and he joined, locking the doors and tossing his keys up front.

 

Her hand glided into his hair and pulled it to pain. She stifled his crying with her mouth, as he loosened his belt and threw it and its pouches in the front of the car.

 

He turned his attention to her legs, pushing her against the door as he got in between them.

 

"What do you need baby doll?” His voice gruff and low as he shoved her skirt up. His lips grazed her thighs as he sought her lidded stare.

 

"You know what to do so get to work." One more yank at his hair and he growled into her leg.

 

His thumb slid achingly slow up her thigh to her kickers, sliding it just under to caress.

 

"Speed it up or you'll regret it ahhh!"

 

He grinned against her leg as he bit and sucked her skin to a delighted moan from her. Both hands reached grabbing her  knickers. She arched her hips up as he ripped them down. The thin fabric gave up under the force and tattered in his hand.  

 

"Better?"

 

"Shut up" she panted.

 

"This car muffles sounds pretty well, scream for me," he murmured, his face edging to center.

 

"I'll do what I want. But make me if you can," she hummed.

 

With that her skirt shoved the rest way up and his tongue on her clit, she threw her head back, the sensation sudden and strong as she cried out.

 

He licked, his tongue slipping into her, and back up leisurely.

 

Not a master but eager for her which added to the effect. She missed lips and tongue of any kind on her clit and he answered the need as good as any man could, confirming her suspicion his mild submissiveness to be a benefit.

 

"Fuck oh fuck you God yes" she growled out as she felt it build.

 

And with one more direct suck on the nib she came undone with another deep growl and shudder. He lapped up the result.

 

She nudged him up and bit his lip to near blood before shoving him off her to the other side of the car. He barely caught himself from going to the floor board.

 

"Hey...not sure I like that rOUGh--" he yelped as she crawled on top of him pushing her hand up his thighs, hips and chest. She scratched her fingernails slow up to his collar bone under the cashmere fabric, and he sucked in a hard breath as she straddled his legs.

 

His hand grabbed her arms as she rocked against him, her nails digging in his chest. He pulled himself up to latch on her neck, then trailing light kisses down along the shirt line.

 

"You’re awfully sweet but that is a fucking for another time," she sighed in his hair, raising a hand to scratch a long the back of his skull.

 

Lifting his head their eyes locked, and his lips curled up as he licked them, "Is that promise, baby doll?"

 

"Not my division, Detective Inspector."

 

He returned back to her neck but he used teeth, not relenting unless she whimpered. _He is quick student, oh that is dangerous,_ she thought.

 

Everything in him ached, wanting to go slow and fast in the same breath as every touch increased to luscious pain. Nothing sweet as she asked. _Whatever you want_ _baby doll_ _just keep this going,_ he mused as he grabbed her arse digging fingers into flesh.

 

"Where are your handcuffs, Detective Inspector?" Her voice clear and authoritative. _Only asking to be polite,_ she mused.

 

He laughed as he loosened his grip on her " um...baby doll...I'

 

Her eyes flashed, "Tell me Detective inspector "

 

He gulped as she ground against his thigh, "Me or you? Or--"

 

"You of course." Her lips crept into a smile and she licked them slowly for effect.

 

Alarm bells going off in his head. "Ah, you know I am not sure--"

 

"You want to be fucked, you want the entire experience or should I leave?" She stopped all movement like a train wreck and the impact knocked every thought out of his head.

 

"Don’t you still want me, Detective Inspector?" she whispered as she leaned into his ear and slipped her hand down his trousers.

 

"Fuck yes" he grunted slipping his hand up her sides to her breast and she let him play for a moment.

 

"Handcuffs," she commanded. "I don’t need your hands anymore, mine will be suffice so. Don't. Be. Dull."

 

Blood slammed in his head as the alcohol wore off. He should stop this. "Ahh jeez fuck...this is stupid. Baby doll  I am so stupid," he whispered, almost to himself.

 

"Shh" she purred.

 

She ran her thumb over his lips, cradling his jaw as she scraped her nail along his hairline. He put hand under her arse and held her to him as he leaned and reached through to the front seat where he threw his belt. He found the pouch and the snap popped as she ground against him.

 

"Damn, wait until I got my trousers off you'll ruin them," he grunted, slipping his finger to scrape into her thigh.

 

"Too late for that detective inspector" she asserted, her own hands working his thighs.

 

He held up the cuffs on a finger, near her face. " Standard issue"

 

"I'm very familiar" she grinned wickedly and his jaw fell slack as she snatched them away.

 

She slid her hands down his arms and pushed them behind his back. He let her without another thought to the danger. She found his wrists and snapped them on tight with two clicks  She gave than a tug to check and he pulled against them.

 

She tugged her shirt off, but kept the skirt on. She needed him to feel the leather it was part of the experience. Her fingers undid the button on the trousers and slipped thumbs into them and his pants and tugged them down freeing his erection. _Nothing to disappoint there_ , she thought.

 

She bit his thighs while down and before he could recover her mouth followed down his full length. He bucked against her mouth and tugged at the handcuffs.

 

Quick as she sucked on him, she released him, probably should have done the condom before that, she mused but she wasn't in her clearest head she realized. The whole night one long foreplay and even if she came she wanted one more time at least. And she needed the power of bringing a man to that edge and throwing him off.

 

She reached for her purse near her feet, and quickly found a condom.

 

"Oh good, you got one" he sighed.

 

She snapped and rolled it on, and began teasing again, nails and teeth playing their song on his thighs and hips.

 

"Fuck.”

 

"Shut up...no...tell me what you want...what do you need Detective Inspector?" she whispered into his hip.

 

"God, I just need that warm cunt on me," he gasped as her tongue teased up his ribs.

 

"Soon...if I feel like it."

 

"I wish I could..." he tugged on the handcuffs as he leaned up and the clinking sound triggered something velvety and familiar to her.

 

Her eyebrow raised as she searched his face, laying a hand on his chest. "Touch me? This is a fucking, DI. I don't need your hands."

 

They held each other's stare, but he relented first, closing his eyes and leaned back. "Then fucking show me, baby doll."

 

With that she straddled him, sliding down slow.

 

"Umgh," he lifted his hips in response.

 

He panted "You gonna come again for me? Come around me."

 

"Beg," she breathed out through her teeth

 

"Please, baby doll," he begged with a whisper.

 

Her fingers began the work on herself again. And he watched the sight.

 

"Oh baby doll please. Please. Please." He repeated it like a mantra as she tightened around him.

 

She could stop right now, leave him blue and aching. She got off once already. But she didn't have the heart. _You're getting soft,_ she mused to herself. In that moment, she saw panic flash across his dark eyes as they met hers.

 

She put his concern into words. "I've done it before. Left them purple and stiff. Aching and their hand tied behind their back."

 

But his face softened and his eyes closed as he pushed himself up. His breath blew cool into her clavicle as he whispered into it.

 

"You do what you need to do, baby doll, but I hope you want something else." The plea in his voice delicious but she hesitated. She did want that something else. She shivered and the mutual want washed over them.

 

She settled into the rhythm that produced results, her fingers and his cock in unison. His hips rocked and his grunts told her she almost had him.

 

But he held until her breathing assured her pleasure, catching and quick with an open mouth as he sussed out that she neared the edge.

 

"Baby doll!" His growl hummed through her lips she leaned in, her teeth snatching at his throat. The handcuffs cut in his skin as he strained against them.

  

That clink of the metal together, and the arch of their hips they both came undone.

 

The panting calmed and she lifted herself off him and to the seat next as he swung his feet to the floor board. She smoothed her skirt back and found her t shirt, slipping it on. She placed her torn kickers in her purse. He sat there staring at a loss as she pulled lipstick out, reapplying with a small mirror.

 

"Um…" he gulped and looked to his exposed lower half.

 

"Oh fine I'll help," she sighed with rolled eyes. She shifted in front of him tugged up his pants and trousers. He lifted his hips to help. She took tissues out of her purse and relieved him of the rubber. But she didn't offer anything else. He closed his eyes and sigh, put his head forward on the back of the seat.

 

"Damn—"

 

"Well, Detective Inspector. It seems the evening reached its logical conclusion." Her voice light and business like. "You are still drunk, so I suggest you sleep it off."

 

"You gonna…" he hesitantly asked, fearing the answer he knew.

 

"Keys are in the front seat," she caressed his jaw, squeezed hard and turned his face to hers. Just touching her lips to his, she whispered against them, “I’ll admit this...I wasn’t bored.”

 

She dropped her hand, his eyes focused on her lips.

 

Scratching a fingernail along his thigh, she pushed her hand into his pocket slipping out his phone.

 

He snickered, “Irene, it’s locked.”

 

Her face fell to a frown, “Oh, Sweet Greg. I have my ways.”

 

With that said she reached around and grabbed his hand, placing the phone button sensor on his thumb. He let her, knowing a fight would be limited due to his current bondage.

 

Greg breathed out through his nose, “I really am a stupid drunk.”

 

“Shhh...I like it,” Irene smirked, typing slowly on his phone, her face lit up in the dark.

 

When finished with her task, she tossed it unlocked in the front seat.

 

“I take it —“

 

“Yes, DI, time for me to leave. Good luck with the rest of the morning.” She sighed and grabbed his face once again. Her kiss crushed, teeth and tongue and then became achingly slow to just the faintest of touches that he tried to follow with his lips when she pulled away.

 

“You know where to find me if you're bored.” With that she opened the other door and stepped out without another word as it shut behind her.

 

Greg’s groan turned to a yell. In a right mess, stuck with undone trousers with his issue handcuffs tight on his wrists in his issued car and the keys and his phone all in the front seat.

 

He spied through the seats to see what she typed before she tossed the phone. As his eyes focused, that boyish grin returned. In his contacts, a new one titled, “Baby doll.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Mouse9 and Mizjoely for edit reads. And my friends Rachel who knows Irene's voice really well.
> 
> Yeah its a hot fic. You know what makes it hotter? a playlist lol.  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/w7wjzjrs5iiu6i7mv2wtoog3w/playlist/0lrf2ciAomYYLnJAeOzjZA?si=WMoqA_VSQYSIi25z80ozbQ
> 
> Title is from Mizjoely
> 
> This was not prompted I just had to write it this ship needs more attention. Welcome aboard!
> 
> The bar is real, called 1920.


End file.
